Phone Home
by RantingFangirl
Summary: When Arthur's friends get an idea for a way to find him a date, there's no stopping them.


Arthur prided himself on being one of the saner of the six Kirkland brothers, and would gladly give a three computer files' worth of evidence should anyone try to question it. He could quickly de-escalate any of their shenanigans- which was the only way those stupid ideas could be labeled. The same, however, could not be said when it came to his friends.

Vlad and Lukas were unpredictable, posing as supportive yet content to stay in the background. At least until they got an idea that they couldn't shake off.

Which was exactly what was currently happening. The three of them stood on a beach, if you could call it that. Arthur looked down at the gray, muddy sand collapsing under his feet, cringing when it stuck to his shoe.

Next to him, Vlad scoffed. "From the look on your face, you might as well have stepped in vomit."

Arthur looked at him, his nose starting to ache from being wrinkled. He shook his foot, his toes knocking back and forth between the sides of his boot. The goopy sand swung off his foot, the majority of it finding its way onto his pants. Vlad snickered.

He ignored it, scoffing with disgust at the sand as he brushed it off. "What are we doing here, again?" If Vlad wanted him to-

"You know why." Lukas spoke for the first time since they'd arrived, scrawling with spider-like efficiency on college-ruled paper. He clicked the pen closed, sliding its clip in place with the edge of the clipboard.

When he spoke again, his voice was matter of fact, and he didn't bother to even glance over to them, scanning over his work. "You know exactly why we're here."

Arthur ignored the first ominous tone in his words. He did, in fact, know why they were there, but he was going drag out the inevitable as much as possible. If only to save himself.

"Yes, but-" Gently, ever so slowly, Arthur put his foot back down on the sand, watching as muck engulfed the outer sole of his shoe. "- there's a completely different way we could've done it. And not-" He paused, gesturing to the ocean in front of them. "-this."

Vlad flicked his eyes over to him, his words and smirk mocking. "Yes, but this is more creative."

"It's more idiotic, that's what it is."

Vlad feigned mock offense, gaping his mouth open and pressing an open palm to his chest. He knitted his eyebrows together, shaking his head. "And what else could we do? Is there anything you propose?" His voice was in a joking and posh tone, and Arthur couldn't help but smile at it.

Arthur took a step back, putting his hands to his hips to stand akimbo. "Anything would've been better than this. Couldn't we have just gone with a dating site? You know, like normal people do?"

Lukas paused, slowly turning his head over to Arthur. He frowned, shaking his head. "If we put you on a dating site, you wouldn't get a single match."

"Ouch." Vlad winced. Then wince then broke into a shit-eating grin, Vlad cocking his head to the side. "Do you think that they would even let him keep his account? You actually have to look somewhat attractive on most of them, you know." His words were infuriatingly cocky when he spoke, though Arthur made sure than any speck of anger he felt didn't show.

Arthur knitted his eyebrows together, lowering his chin and frowning. "Vlad, you look like a Count Chocula Ken doll reject. I don't want to hear it."

Vlad practically squawked, his mouth gaping and his eyes narrowing. He put his hand over his heart, his shoulders caving in an attempt at mock offense. "Don't talk about Count Chocula like that."

"By that, do you mean comparing him to you or to Ken?"

"Both."

Arthur couldn't help but smile, breathing out of his nose in a slight laugh. Vlad joined in, his shoulders and stomach shaking in tune with the huffs of breath escaping his mouth. The sight only succeeded in making Arthur laugh harder, even if he tried his best to resist.

With the ocean around them, no matter how muddy it was, for a second, Arthur almost forgot about the matter at hand. The key word being "almost".

At that moment, Vlad slipped behind Arthur, sliding his arms to lock under his armpits. Arthur struggled against the grip, jerking his head and shoulders back.

Vlad was stronger than he thought.

He felt his friend lean in towards his ear, Arthur shoving down the urge to slam his temples into Vlad's. "Calm down, we're doing this for-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, you fucker."

A snicker filled his ear, Vlad's warm breath squandering against the outer shell. "Just accept it, Arthur. The love of your life is waiting for you."

"And you think a message in a glass fucking bottle is going to do anything?"

Vlad shrugged. "I saw it as a meme on Instagram. Sounded like a fun idea."

Arthur stilled. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head as best he could towards Vlad. Their cheeks just barely touched, Arthur's eyes narrowing as Vlad's gripped tightened. "Are you-"

The scratching stopped. Arthur whipped his head over to Lukas as the latter clicked his pen, shoving it back into his pocket.

After a quick proof-read, Lukas thinly rolled the paper, pulling out a glass bottle that looked as if it were straight from a children's book. That, Arthur realized bitterly, the feeling pooling in his stomach, was what he should've— could've— gone for first.

No, that wasn't it. Arthur shouldn't have agreed to come in the first place.

The thought alone snatched his attention, not releasing him until it was too late. Arthur watched as the bottle, a cork stuffed in its neck, flew in a spinning arch towards the ocean.

It wasn't until it slammed into the water with a soft plunk that Vlad's gripped eased. Arthur ripped himself free, his shoes sinking into the muddy sand.

He took several steps towards the water's edge, stopping just feet away. Arthur sighed.

"Go to hell, both of you."

* * *

Arthur had a headache.

The chorus of telephones had yet to cease after several hours, much less quiet down, even with how close the time ticked further and further into the night. Every moment brought another call, each call carrying ten voicemails along with it.

Curse those bastards for putting him at the front desk.

Sighing, Arthur pulled his bag towards him, rustling around for— there. The bottle.

One of the first things he had learned on the job was to carry around a bottle of ibuprofen. It came in handy in most situations, specifically ones he was required to listen in. Intern meetings, phone calls, everything.

He popped the cap off, placing it on the edge of his desk as he fished out two pills. Within seconds, the taste of paper filled his mouth, the sourness of it drowning out the pounding in his head. Disgusting.

Arthur swallowed with a grimace, sliding the lid back onto the bottle and dropping it in his bag. The roller chair he was sitting on creaked as he did so, the noise loud enough that he was unable to ignore it. In the distance, in the office behind him, a phone rang. Someone walked through the door. They lifted their hand in a reserved wave, not even bothering to look at Arthur, the sounds of their footsteps bouncing off the walls.

It was all too much. He had a good thirty minutes before the ibuprofen kicked in, thirty minutes before any sort of relief. Another phone call, cut short and followed by a loud laugh. Fuck. Why did these people have to be so loud. He clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into the—

Arthur's phone buzzed.

It rattled against the table, quieting everything around him. Slowly, oh so slowly, he picked it up.

His phone lit as soon as he faced it, a green banner floating down to eye-level. It was an international number, that much was certain, but the message itself… that was an issue. It buzzed again as he clicked the message and unlocked his phone.

 _ _Hey.__

 _ _I'm Alfred. :P__

Arthur paused, staring at the screen, re-reading the messages over and over again. And again. He went to type out a message before deleting it. It happened several times before he finally managed to type something, finally setting on:

 _ _Who is this?__

His phone buzzed again.

 _ _I told you. I'm Alfred. What's your name?__

Arthur clicked his phone off, setting it down on his desk. There was no way. No way that he would give his name to Alfred, if that was really his name. Another buzz.

In a spur of the moment action, Arthur grabbed his phone, haphazardly dropping it into his bag and zipping it up. Silence, even just for a few seconds. He returned to his work, checking emails and marking his calendar with upcoming meetings and other dates. Arthur went through email after email, either sending it to the trash or to the archives. All the while, his phone buzzed.

Curiosity welled inside of him, clawing at him, gently tugging his attention towards the black messenger bag settled next to his ankles. Arthur pushed the urge away, kicking the bag away.

He heard it tip over, his phone— along with some other things, the bottle of pills, pens, etc— tumbling out. Arthur cursed, pushing himself out of his chair, dropping to his knees. His phone flickered to life beside him, revealing the new set of texts waiting for him. Arthur stared at the phone before glancing at his tipped bag, going back and forth, back and forth, between the two.

He sighed through his nose. Fuck it.

Unlocking his phone, Arthur took no time to look through the messages, which had multiplied quickly in the past few minutes.

 _ _Awwww, cmon. Dont do this__

 _ _Hiiiiiii__

 _ _Look, I know it sounds a bit creepy, but please!__

 _ _Ohhhh wait__

 _ _I know what your name is__

 _ _Hi Arthur :)__

Arthur froze upon seeing his name on the other side of the screen. He glanced up at the header of the screen, making sure that yes, this was a stranger who yes, had his name. For a split second, Arthur's thumb grazed the keys before sending himself into action, his message typed out and sent before he had the chance to reread it.

 _ _How did you get my name?__

A gray message floated to the top of the empty space.

 _ _There you are :))__

 _ _It was on your letter__

A ball dropped in Arthur's stomach. There was no way. No way that that stupid little stunt Vlad pulled would have ever come to fruition.

 _What do you mean, my letter?_

Pushing himself back up on his chair, Arthur kept his eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the three dancing dots to finish. They stopped for a split second before continuing, up and down in quick succession until— finally.

It was a video.

Arthur clicked on it, revealing a tanned man in a swimsuit. His caramel hair was plastered to his forehead, a cheeky smirk along with it.

The video began, the man— who, now Arthur thought about it, was assumingly Alfred— moving his lips. No sound. Arthur groaned before restarting.

"Now, Arthur, what we have here—" American, definitely American. If not a given by the accent, with its small twang and bluntness, then by the overall confidence the man— no, Alfred, displayed. "—is a glass bottle. Little sandy, little dirty, but it's damn sure a bottle."

No. It couldn't be. No way that thing resurfaced after six years. No way that something like that could've gone anywhere.

"And, in the bottle, I found this." Alfred held up the paper that Lukas had written years ago, it's edges set in a permanent roll. "You wanna know what it says?" Alfred unrolled the paper, holding it up as if he were a medieval town crier.

"Looking for cute guys. Call me. My name is Arthur. And then there are several smiley faces along with your phone number. Pretty funny, aren't ya?" Whoever was filming the video laughed, a loud, obnoxious noise that had Alfred joining in.

Arthur paused the video.

It would've been funny, if it weren't for the fact that he was the one at the butt of the joke. Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists, in and out, counting up to ten and back down.

Sick. Lukas and Vlad had sick tastes when it came to humor.

His phone buzzed his once more in his hand, Arthur's attention drifting down to the newest message, right under the video.

 _ _Call me ;)__

Arthur saved the video before swiping out of the chat, his message menu displaying rows upon rows of others. He tapped on the group chat he shared with Vlad and Lukas and sent the video.

You won't believe what's come up.

It was something that his friends had forgotten about. For the first few months,they had constantly reminded him about it, but now…

Like before, Arthur left the chat, returning to Alfred. He stared at the contact number, re-reading over and over again. Weighing. Balancing.

He looked at the back arrow and then back at the number. Back, forth. Back, forth. The number.

Arthur pressed the dial button.

* * *

Thank you for reading! You can find a masterlist of all of my works on Tumblr at RantingFangirl!


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